The training courtyard of Castle Elathion cracked with harsh noises and the breaking of stone. The unnatural growls of howling winds and the slight tremor of the castle walls should have sent anyone into a panic, or at least into a state of caution.

  The servants and knights of Castle Elathion carried on their duties unperturbed, however. They were used to the noise by now.

  The Young Master of the House was simply performing casual acts of miracles once more.

  Mana shimmered in the air, weaved with ancient arcana. Another roar of wind blasted the modified training yard — a square of crumbling stone, ringed by battered wooden pillars. Cracks laced the flagstones, some still misting from harsh cuts upon their surface.

  It was a beautiful morning. Above, pale clouds drifted lazily as a boy tried to imitate the breath of ancient titans.

  [Sky Giant Arts, First Form: Storm Breath]

  Eri roared once more, his voice amplified beyond any human capacity. His ribs were strained, and his vision pricked with white. The Arte was not gentle on the lungs. Storms were not meant to be stored in chambers of flesh and blood.

  Still, the wind obeyed, for the Sky Giants were creatures who had tamed the skies and mastered the myriad breaths of heaven. Their Artes would not fail at compelling the storm.

  The air left Eri’s mouth as a spiralling blast of wind, twisting into a visible funnel. Dust and loose stones were hurled away from his feet. The wooden pillars groaned and shook as the shockwave rippled outward like a pulse of sonic thunder.

  The recoil nearly knocked him over. Eri coughed, breathless, his chest burning. The ground before him was scraped clean. A shallow trench was now gouged into the courtyard’s sands.

  “Still too weak,” he hissed between breaths. “It needs more compression.”

  “I thought that was good! The breaths of the Sky Giants are not meant for human use, even for Chosens. To be able to activate it at all is a miracle.”

  Eri looked at the other occupant of the courtyard. Peythra sat on a bench to the side, watching his progress and providing polite encouragement.

  The youth had asked for her presence. Having one of the twin healers nearby as he practised his Sky Giant Artes was more a necessity than anything, since there was a good chance Eri might fatally wound himself again. He already learnt his lessons well after the first time.

  Kalisa might not have another spare set of lungs around if he blew his apart again.

  “If I didn’t have the modified lungs of a half-blood Giant, I wouldn’t have been able to use it at all,” Eri grimaced. “There’s a difference in biology that is not accounted for. Using the First or Second Forms is significantly harder for me because of my smaller size. The recoil is too much. However, the Third Form was a lot more controllable.”

  “The Titan’s Funereal Gales,” Peythra mused. “The formation of tormented razor winds. The arcana is manipulated outside your lungs, so the magic is less harsh upon your body. The volume you can shape is still dependent on your breath, however.”

  The same went for the rest of the Sky Giant Artes. Unless he found some way to store more breath in his lungs, the Sky Giant’s School of Magic was cursed to remain far weaker than the rest of his arsenal.

  “It’s a shame. If this is the most I can do, even with reinforced lungs, then I don’t see a way I can use the Artes at their original strength,” Eri admitted.

  “Do not be so dour,” Peythra chided lightly. “Regardless of its state, the Artes belong to a school of Elder Magic. That property makes them unique, if nothing else. It was pleasant to see that the legacy of the Giants had survived to this day, even in a lesser form.”

  “You knew the Sky Giants?” Eri asked curiously.

  “I did. When we weren’t tasked with maintaining the psychoactive Gestalt of the conclave, as all elves do, my sister and I were… diplomats for our race, I suppose,” Peythra hummed. “It gave us opportunities to explore the wider world beyond the Golden Glades. I can tell you about our journeys some other time, if you wish.”

  “I’ll gladly take you on your offer,” Eri nodded gratefully, smiling. “My grasp on worldly knowledge is still woefully limited.”

  Regardless, the Sky Giant Artes were a dead-end in his quest for more strength. He was better off using his time pursuing other ventures of power.

  Speaking of which… “You, Deyara, and Kalisa have examined my Core multiple times already. Is there any improvement?”

  “No,” Peythra said immediately. “The damage you have done to yourself is extensive. It’s a miracle your Core did not fracture at all, let alone still function.”

  When Eri had forcibly ascended his Core during the desperate battle against the Duskcrown assassins a year ago, he had inflicted significant damage to it — damage that even now persisted, hindering his ability to use his Core.

  It typically took Bronze Cores an average of five to eight years before they ascended to Silver. Even reborn Saints, known for their rapid ascension, would usually take at least two to three years.

  When Eri had violently driven his newly forged Bronze Core into the Silver ranks after merely a month, the consequences were severe. Each time he used his Core now, there was a chance for it to fluctuate and for his Artes to fail. Even when successfully executed, the magical energy would rapidly leak from the ‘cracks’ in his Core, leading to significant wastage in mana.

  Eri was getting better at controlling it, but there was no denying that the additional concentration it demanded crippled his combat capability.

  “I was hoping you and Deyara would be able to fix it,” Eri admitted. “Even Kalisa said it was beyond her expertise.”

  “The problem lies with your Core, not your flesh,” Peythra answered. “In matters relating to the Goddess Core, very few are experienced in its mysteries, for the Core answers only to the Goddess, not the scholars of higher arcana.”

  “But the three of you were able to diagnose the problem anyway. And the solution, bitter as it is,” Eri grimaced. “Is it really going to take me at least twenty years before I can ascend my Core to Gold?”

  “It is an estimate based on what little we can discern,” Peythra smiled apologetically. “You skipped the interlude period between Bronze and Silver, so there is a ‘debt’ of at least five years owed to your Core recovery. Next, the usual interlude between Silver and Gold is twelve to fifteen years. In light of your prodigious growth, it is not unreasonable to assume that under normal circumstances, you would have obtained it in less than ten years.”

  “And finally, the remaining five years come from the damage I inflicted on myself,” Eri concluded. “Even then, twenty years is supposedly a generous time frame, in your words and Kalisa’s.”

  “You are too greedy, Eri,” Peythra laughed. “From my understanding, it usually takes most human Chosens five to six decades before they reach the Gold Cores. Having a Silver Core at your age is already a blessing on its own, and even if it takes you another twenty years to obtain your Gold Core, you would still be far ahead of the average.”

  Peythra’s words were not wrong. He had once lived for centuries. Twenty years was barely an eyeblink, especially as his Silver Core would drastically slow his ageing and ensure he remained in good physical health for years to come. To aim for a Gold Core when he was not even two decades old yet was the height of arrogance.

  The author's tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

  Even so, Eri was not satisfied.

  “I’ll find a way,” he said stubbornly. “Maybe I won’t get a Gold Core within the next few years, but I bet I can get it before I turn twenty.”

  “Do not be reckless, Eri,” Peythra said. Her tone was worried. “Ascending too soon risks further damage. At best, your Core will fracture further and cripple your mana control even more. At worst, it could kill you. I do not wish to see you die.”

  “I’ll be careful,” he promised.

  Even as he said that, Eri’s thoughts were already heading down dangerous directions.

  [New Side Quest! ‘Slap Some Magic On It!’]

  [Doing things the safe way is not the hero’s creed! Find a way to repair the annoying damage to your Silver Core and ascend it to Gold before you turn twenty!]

  ~~~

  In pursuit of new avenues of power, Eri experimented with weapons, magic, and obscure branches of knowledge. Yet, even as he tinkered, dissected, and researched his days away, he made sure not to forget the roots of his power.

  The System was the key to his growth, and none of its gifts, no matter how strange or dangerous, should be ignored.

  For example, there was a certain damnable bottle (perhaps even in the literal sense) that has eluded his comprehension for too long. In order to discern its mysteries, Eri had decided to gather the greatest experts on ancient and exotic arcana he could find, seeking their wisdom on the matter.

  It was just too bad that they detested the company of each other.

  “Alright, I know the three of you don’t like being together—”

  “I’ll have you know that in my culture, it is considered a war crime to put the two of us in the same room as this beast,” Deyara grumbled, glaring at Kalisa. Peythra was seated next to her twin, her smile more neutral than usual.

  Kalisa appeared utterly unaffected by their displeasure. If anything, judging by her smile, she looked entertained by their discomfort.

  Eri sighed. “I just need your expertise. The three of you are the most knowledgeable people I know when it comes to ancient arcana, so I need your thoughts.”

  The four of them — Eri, Kalisa, Deyara, and Peythra — were in a secluded corner of the Castle. Their gathering was a little suspicious, but by now, most of Castle Elathion had learned to leave Eri’s antics be. Though sometimes dangerous and alarming, his actions and experiments were often made for the betterment of House Elathion.

  At the moment, Deyara and Peythra were seated on a couch as far away from Kalisa as possible. The Foxkin herself was sitting next to Eri, her fluffy tail on his lap.

  “You could have consulted us individually if that was the case. Involving the two of us with her is… unwise,” Peythra said diplomatically.

  “Neither of you has told me why you dislike Kalisa so much yet. Is it really that bad?” Eri asked.

  “Why don’t you ask her?” Deyara grunted.

  Eri looked inquisitively at Kalisa, who laughed. “They have a thing against innocent fox surgeons. It’s classic elven bigotry!”

  “It’s not bigotry. It’s called having a sense of self-preservation. Something the boy here doesn’t have, considering he won’t stop hugging the tail,” Deyara scoffed.

  “It’s a really fluffy tail,” Eri coughed, reluctantly putting aside the warm fluffiness. “But fine. There’s a feud between you three I’m not getting, but it doesn’t seem hostile, so I won’t judge or get involved.”

  “It is probably best that you don’t,” Peythra agreed. “Perhaps you might begin by explaining why you have brought all three of us here? I must admit, I am rather curious about what matter you would deem important enough to arrange this meeting.”

  “It’s just to sate a mystery that has been bothering me for a while. All three of you possess esoteric knowledge about the old world and its long-lost arcana. There’s something I want you to see and get your opinion on.”

  “Oh, this could be interesting,” Kalisa hummed. “What secret revelation are you about to show us now?”

  “Well, it’s a… bottle of wine,” Eri said hesitantly. “I think.”

  “Did you get the three of us here together so that you could get us drunk?” Deyara raised an eyebrow. “Because that’s not a good look on you, you little pervert.”

  Eri sighed. “It’s not a normal bottle. The liquid within seems to absorb light. And it feels… menacing.”

  Eri was, of course, referring to the strange bottle of wine he had obtained years ago, right before he first met Dulcina on that fateful night amidst the snow outside Kaldreach — ‘The First Sinner’s Vintage’, bought from the System Shop for a mere single Villany point.

  Since then, there hadn’t been any offer for Eri to spend his Villany Point, even as he checked the System Shop almost every day. One of the possible conclusions Eri had come to was that the System was expecting him to use the strange vintage in some way before the System would expand on the Villany Shop.

  He wasn’t reckless enough to drink it, obviously. The bottle was positively drenched in ancient arcana. Consulting with others knowledgeable in the old magics first before he went ahead with any other action seemed reasonable.

  When Eri had first consulted Elen years ago, before his adoption, the matron had no idea what it was, save that the magic within was demonic in nature. They had considered simply destroying it, but that came with the risk of accidentally letting out whatever was contained in the bottle. She advised him to throw it into the deepest pit of his Inventory pouch and never let it out.

  Next was the demon noble Marchosias, whom Eri had consulted before the pseudo-dragon had left for the Slaver Isles. Like Elen, the demon provided disappointingly little insight into the matter. The only noteworthy observation was their confirmation that the presence inside was indeed demonic, and that the liquid, while not sapient, definitely holds some lesser form of sentience. Its absorption of light came as a result of mana manipulation, rather than an arcane property of the liquid.

  Marchosias had enthusiastically volunteered to drink it, but Eri decided he liked his pet dragon too much to risk their indigestion and possible death.

  “A liquid that absorbs light?” Peythra looked considering. “It is most likely Drow magic, then. Their Empire once exported arcanotech that could disrupt light and shadows.”

  “The nature of the substance is demonic in origin,” Eri said. “I’m positive of that. The problem is I’m not exactly sure of its precise purpose.”

  “It’s wine, right? Pretty sure you drink it,” Deyara yawned. “Where did you find it?”

  “That’s… complicated. I don’t think my answer will help much.”

  “Well, are you going to show it to us?” Kalisa smiled, tail wagging.

  Eri nodded. He cautiously reached into his spatial pouch.

  When he took out the ominous bottle — its liquid darker than black, swallowing all light — the three of them froze.

  “... Ah,” Deyara said, stunned.

  “Oh, no,” Peythra whispered.

  “Huh,” Kalisa said, tilting her head. “That… That actually explains a lot of things.”

  Eri looked at them in surprise. “You know what it is?”

  All three of them glanced at each other, then back at Eri.

  “No,” Peythra said immediately.

  “Nope,” Deyara replied with a pop.

  “Sorry, this is not something I can say,” Kalisa apologised. She even seemed sincere this time.

  Eri scowled, putting away the light-eating bottle before it could throw the room into complete darkness. “Really? None of you are going to tell me what it is?”

  “Well, I can confidently tell you now that you should definitely not drink it,” Deyara bluntly said.

  Kalisa shrugged. “Eh, maybe he should. It could be funny.”

  “Taunting the fates like that is the reason why the Elderkin races avoided your company, Fox.” Peythra frowned. She then turned to Eri. “I would highly advise you to keep the bottle in your spatial pouch and never take it out again. It is imperative that you do not open it or lose it. The consequences would be… extreme.”

  Eri grimaced. “Can you really not just say what it is? I have been carrying this stupid thing for more than a year already.”

  Peythra was tight-lipped. Even Kalisa, usually talkative and cheery, was silent.

  “Hm. Tell you what. Ascend to the Jewelled Ranks first. After that, then maybe, one of us will tell you,” Deyara offered.

  “Sister, no,” Peythra sighed.

  “Come on, it will be decades before he ascends to Ruby. Odds are that either the boy finally wisens up, or he’s dead by then.” Deyara shrugged. “Problem solves itself either way.”

  Peythra looked uncomfortable, but didn’t refute.

  Eri looked at Kalisa hopefully. She shook her head, grinning. “Some secrets are—”

  “More fun if revealed later,” he groaned. “I know, I know. Fine. At least I have a general idea of how dangerous it is now, judging from your reactions. I’ll keep it safely stored away.”

  He already had enough toys to play with. One less would not hurt.

  [New Side Quest Unlocked! What’s in the Bottle?]

  [Is it a legendary power-up? A world-ending curse? Only one way to find out!]

  [Quest Condition: Open the bottle (Warning: Recommend Jewelled-Tier Core or higher before attempting]